


for everyone i’m out to prove wrong, you keep the light on

by fantasy_spoilers8



Series: sight of the sun [8]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual John Laurens, Gay John Laurens, M/M, Misgendering, Non-Graphic Violence, Not really graphic, Slurs, Trans Alexander Hamilton, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Well - Freeform, someone gets beaten up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 07:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17219870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasy_spoilers8/pseuds/fantasy_spoilers8
Summary: John and Alex decide to head to the Upper West Side for some Starbucks, but a certain asshole makes an appearance.-Or, the one inspired by that Nomanita scene from the first episode of Sense8.





	for everyone i’m out to prove wrong, you keep the light on

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in early June of Alex and John’s junior year of college. And as always, translations are in the end notes.
> 
> Enjoy!!

On their way to the Starbucks on West 86th and Columbus Avenue, Alex and John passed a guy lounging around on a stoop.

Alexander couldn’t help but size him up as best he could out of instinct.

He was finely dressed in what Alexander had privately dubbed a “rich-ass preppy sweater vest abomination.” He had a backpack laying on the ground next to him showcasing a patch that read “LOVE WINS” on a rainbow background.

So maybe he wasn’t as conservative as the atrocious sweater vest made him seem, but he was disconcerting nonetheless. Right next to the rainbow patch was a big blue button reading “BLUE LIVES MATTER.”

Alexander jolted as he realized the man, laying back on his elbows, was observing Alexander as keenly as he was observing him.

Ordinarily, he would’ve just shrugged it off. But this man had a predatory gleam in his piercing blue eyes, half hidden by a mop of dirty blond hair, as he looked Alexander up and down. Alexander had seen that kind of look many times before. It was judgemental, cunning, almost _hungry._ It only meant danger, and pain, and fear.

Alexander knew in that instant exactly what this man was like. Liberal only when it suited him, cutthroat and proud when confronted with the opportunity to kick someone else while they were down.

Alexander was suddenly reminded of John’s rant from a couple of weeks back about Amy Schumer, how she only cared about women who were straight, who were cis, who had skin as bleached as printer paper. A white feminist that only cared about equal rights when they impacted her personally. That’s what this guy was. A man who would scream about his gayness to the rooftops, then crush every other minority group underfoot without even a backwards glance.

Alexander suddenly felt the instinct to cross his arms over his chest and hunch his shoulders, even though he’d gotten top surgery years ago.

His grip on John’s hand tightened possessively.

“Ow,” John yelped.

Alexander cringed inwardly. He must’ve been gripping it much more tightly than he realized.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” John said, eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything ok, corazón?”

“Yeah,” Alexander said hastily, focusing on the movement of their feet as they walked down the block. “I just want to get outta here.”

_Almost there, almost out of his sight-_

Just as they were about to turn the corner, the man called out to them.

“Hey, you!” he crowed.

Alexander whipped his head around and saw the keen-eyed man smirking at John.

Alexander swallowed nervously. He had expected the man to say something to him, but not to John.

Alexander’s heart sank as he realized John’s sleeve was hiked up and that the pride bracelet he had gotten him was on full display. John had enough shit to deal with. He didn’t deserve having to fight an acephobe.

Alexander would take care of it.

At least he was used to this. He could easily defend his boyfriend, would gladly spend every waking hour doing it. It became much more difficult when his own integrity was in question.

Alexander clenched his free hand and opened his mouth, ready to tear this man to pieces, when the unthinkable happened.

“Billy Grayson?” John called to the man, a broad smile on his face. “Oh my god, man, it’s been forever!”

Alexander froze, his heart in his throat.

John let go of Alexander’s hand and strode over to the stoop. Alexander gaped at him, feeling very much like a child left in a department store, completely abandoned and forgotten about as something more interesting came along.

“Billy Grayson” leapt to his feet, shooting John that same devious smile. John embraced him in one of those crushing, back-slapping hugs that Alexander had trained himself not to flinch at.

Alexander frowned. He knew that John almost never initiated physical contact, _especially_ not with anyone he didn’t know all that well. The only possible explanation was that “Billy Grayson” was an extremely close friend of John’s. But how could Alexander have never met him? And how could John possibly be good friends with scum like that?

Grayson started talking quietly to John. Alexander was too far away to make out what he was saying, but it made John laugh so hard that he doubled over.

Alexander felt much smaller than he had felt in a very long time.

After a few moments, John seemed to remember Alexander was there.

“Oh!” John exclaimed, blinking like he was surprised to see Alexander standing there. “Querido, get over here!”

Alexander warily walked over to them. The man with the cunning eyes only seemed to grow taller.

Alexander looked over at John and saw joy radiating out from his features. He felt the tension drain out of his shoulders, and began to feel more than a little ridiculous. Maybe his observational skills weren’t as good as he thought. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Certainly, if John was this happy upon seeing this guy, he couldn’t be all that bad.

John laced his fingers with Alexander’s again. The familiar pressure made Alexander feel almost as happy as John looked.

“This is one of my friends from the studio,” John said, glancing between the two of them as if he couldn’t decide who he wanted to look at the most. “Billy Grayson, the greatest knucklehead of them all.”

“Hey, who you calling a knucklehead, knucklehead?” Grayson asked John with a grin.

Alexander finally relaxed completely as the two of them continued to razz each other. He must’ve misread this guy before. There wasn’t any threat in his eyes. He must have just recognized John off the street- that’s why he was looking at Alexander in that way.

A small voice in Alexander’s head was the only part not easily swayed. _You know what those kind of people look like you saw it you need to run you need to get away-_

Alexander blinked, hard, and focused his eyes on John’s smile.

John turned to Alexander. “He’s great, this guy, remember how I was telling you how much I wanted you to meet him?”

And just as Alexander was about to protest, he realized, aghast, that he _did_ remember.

John had been talking about Grayson for months. He was one of John’s friends from the studio art class he had taken last semester.

“Did he say anything to you?” Alexander had asked immediately, when John had mentioned his new friend. “Do you need me to fight him? I can definitely fight him. I can call Herc and get him and his buddies to-“

John had laughed at Alexander’s antics. “Don’t worry about it, cariño, he’s fine. He’s really cool.”

Alexander had been suspicious. “Really?”

“He’s the only real friend I’ve made,” John had said with a soft smile. “I mean, you know, besides you and Laf and Herc. You know I don’t have the best track record with people. It just really means a lot, this guy seems to, hell, actually enjoy being around me.”

Alexander had thrown himself at John and dug his face into his neck. “Of course he enjoys being around you. You’re wonderful.”

The threat evaded, Alexander had completely put Grayson out of his mind, only concerned with whether or not John was happy and safe.

He had completely forgotten about this man. That is, until now.

“Alex?” John asked, a look of slight concern on his face.

“Yeah,” Alexander said hoarsely. “Yeah, of course. I remember.”

John’s expression cleared.

“Oh, and by the way, if you didn’t get that already,” John said to Grayson with a laugh, “this is my boyfriend. The one I was telling you about? Alexander Hamilton?”

Grayson’s eyebrows narrowed, and his smirk grew. “You’re kidding, right?”

John’s smile didn’t fade as Alexander’s heartbeat skyrocketed. “Sorry?”

“You’re telling me you’re dating the tranny that tweets about politics all the time?” Grayson sneered.

Alexander took an involuntary step backward. He suddenly felt trapped, like the tall apartment buildings surrounding them were closing in on him.

 _Stop it_ , he scolded himself. _You need to concentrate._

But his thoughts only worsened, his anxiety howling and raging against the barriers of his mind.

 _Rage, rage, against the dying of the light_ , he thought, somewhat hysterically, Dylan Thomas making a delightful addition to the painful chatter inside his head.

Nothing could make this worse. Absolutely nothing.

And then John let out a laugh, he _laughed,_ and Alexander’s heart shattered beyond repair.

“That’s Alexander for you,” John said, looking between at Grayson like he was the sun. “He spends half his life on Twitter. I keep telling him he should take a break on the weekends, but he’s addicted to fighting bigots.”

Alexander felt like bursting into tears.

John was the only person he’d ever fallen in love with. He’d foolishly believed, in the back of his mind, right before he went to sleep at night, that they would stay together for the rest of their lives. And John had just completely betrayed Alexander’s entire existence.

_Boys don’t cry, dumbass._

He couldn’t say he was surprised. He hadn’t expected John to stand up for him. No one ever stood up for him. Alexander knew the only person he could ever rely on was himself.

A small sliver of hope remained in his mind. Maybe John hadn’t understood that it was a slur. Maybe, if Alexander got him away from Grayson as soon as possible, he could explain what was going on and John would agree with him, still love him, stay with him instead of going after some faceless cis boy.

The thought got crushed as soon as it appeared. There was absolutely no way that could happen.

The only thing left to do was to get out. To get away from John before it was too late. To make sure he couldn’t ruin another part of John’s life. Alexander needed to get away from Grayson _now_ or he might honestly try to kill him.

Alexander tried to rip his hand out of John’s, but John held fast.

John turned to look at him with an expression of complete bewilderment. “Alexander, what are you-”

“Why are you calling her that, John? Alexander is a boy’s name.”

_There’s no turning back now._

John whipped his head around to face Grayson again. “What the fuck?”

“Come on, John,” Grayson said, a grin on his face that Alexander wanted to punch more than anything. “You’re _gay._ What the hell are you doing with a straight girl?”   

All of Alexander’s instincts were screaming at him to punch the guy’s lights out, but he knew it would just make things worse for John. Alexander couldn’t be the reason John lost one of his closest friends.

“It’s yaoi on steroids,” Grayson said. “She’s just one more straight girl trying to occupy any of the space left to gay guys that she can get her hands on.”

“John, let me-” Alexander tried to yank his hand out of John’s again, the lump in his throat bordering on painful.

John stumbled a bit at Alexander’s pull, but kept his hold on his hand.

Alexander felt like every bone in his body was screaming. John was going to force him to stay and listen to the hatred spewing out of Grayson’s mouth. Alexander should’ve known that John would never stand up for him, never choose him, never stay-

_Nadie se quedará contigo, hermanita._

_Ellos saben que no mereces la pena._

_Ils savent que tu ne ferez que gâcher leurs vies._

The buzzing in Alexander’s ears drowned out the rest of what the two of them were saying to each other. It was probably better that way.

He felt John begin to shake where he was still holding his arm. He was probably laughing again.

“I’mma let you think real hard about the shit that just came outta your mouth,” he heard John say, his drawl deepening.

Wait. What?

Alexander’s gaze snapped to John’s face, sure he had misheard.

John looked...angry.

Why was he angry?

Alexander liked to think of his brain as a computer. Information came in, got processed, and varying amounts of results would pop up.

This was refusing to process. Alexander could see that John was furious, could feel his arm shaking with what had to be rage, but he was incapable of understanding why.

Could John be angry at him? But Alexander knew he had voiced none of his thoughts aloud. John couldn’t know what was going on inside his head.

Alexander wasn’t naïve enough to believe that John was getting angry on his behalf, especially against one of his closest friends. No one did that. _Alexander_ was the one who defended others, who got angry, who fought everyone who dared to cross his path. Sure, he enjoyed some of it, but it was mostly because he knew that if he didn’t stand up for himself, no one would. No one wanted to listen to a scrawny kid who was able to check virtually every minority box on a form. The world just didn’t work like that.

Even Lafayette, the closest thing Alexander had to family, never stood up for him. He didn’t blame them, not at all; Lafayette was just a passive person. Alexander always jumped in the way before they could even open their mouth, anyway.

Dimly, Alexander realized that Grayson was still smiling at John like he was being particularly dense.

“John, this isn’t a hard concept. Guys have dicks, girls have pussies.”

John finally let go of Alexander’s hand, and Alexander’s heart seized in his chest.

 _Run run run run run run run_ _now_ _-_

His feet stubbornly remained where they were.

He couldn’t keep his mouth closed any longer. “John-”

But John had grabbed Grayson by the collar and shoved him up against the building.

“You’re my friend,” John snarled at Grayson, “and I really don’t want to have to beat the shit out of you. So how about you let your brain catch up to your mouth, and reconsider.”

Alexander felt like he was hallucinating.

That must have been it. That was the only possible explanation for this; he wanted so badly for John to defend him that his brain was inventing the situation. He hadn’t hallucinated like this in years, since he was a little kid having nightmares about his mother huddled in the corner of his room at the Washingtons’. But this situation definitely had enough stress involved to kickstart that part of his brain again.

Had he taken his meds in the morning? He didn’t think so.

He pressed his fingers into his eyes so strongly that he saw spots.

“You this angry in bed?” he heard Grayson say. “I bet you’d have to be really friggin kinky to get over the fact that the person you’re fucking doesn’t have a-”

An ear-splitting _crack_ rang through the air.

Alexander’s eyes flew open to see Grayson holding himself up against the wall, blood streaming from his nose.

“You’re crazy,” Grayson was screaming, his face contorted, his hands over his nose, “you’re insane, what the fuck are you-”

John grabbed his shirt collar again and let his fist collide with Grayson’s neck.

Alexander watched, dazed, as John kicked his knees out from under him in one smooth movement. Grayson hit the ground with a sickening thud.

John stomped his foot into Grayson’s stomach, and he doubled over on the floor, clutching his stomach and heaving for breath.

John dug his foot up against Grayson’s throat, and he started to choke.

Alexander’s heart broke even further as he thought about how John would feel once he came to his senses.

_John didn’t deserve to have to do this._

Alexander grabbed at John’s shoulder and forced him to turn and look at him.

John’s eyes were full of an animalistic fire. He was breathing heavily, his fists clenching and unclenching rhythmically. His foot dug harder into Grayson’s neck.

Alexander tried to regain enough composure to speak. He had John’s attention. What the hell was he supposed to do with it?

He thought of another battle, far away, one with water gushing and fires burning and children dying.

“You can stop now,” he said, stealing Donna Noble’s words.

John blinked at him like he was coming out of a daze. He lifted his foot off of Grayson’s neck, and watched him pitilessly as he spluttered and coughed.

John crouched down next to Grayson and pulled his face up by the hair.

“If you ever say anything as fucked up as that again,” John said softly, “you won’t be getting back up. You understand?”

Alexander couldn’t take it anymore.

Pain, pain and hurt and harsh words cracking like whips on every side. All he could see was the tension coiled in John’s shoulders, the blood trickling down Grayson’s face.

The sky was crashing down around him, cracking and breaking into pieces at his feet.

People walked up and down the street all around him, completely oblivious to the end of the world.

Alexander didn’t realize he was running until John and Grayson were nowhere in sight.

_Oh, impotent presumptuous fool! See thy wretched helpless state, and learn to know thyself. Despise thyself._

 

* * *

 

John found Alexander sitting on the steps of the Museum of Natural History, next to the huge bronze statue that lorded over the street.

John forced himself to walk slowly so Alexander wouldn’t be startled.

His arms and legs were cradled around his head, almost like he was trying to shield himself. John couldn’t see any part of his face, just his shock of black hair scattered over his shaking arms.

John sat down next to him on the steps, stretching his legs out in front of him. He looked up at the towering statue, just to have something to do. It showed Teddy Roosevelt sitting proudly on a horse, a Native American man standing stoically beside him.

“I wonder why they have him next to a Native American guy,” John said, mostly to himself. “I’d be really surprised to hear that a rich white guy from the early 1900s got along with Native Americans.”

“He didn’t.”

John snapped his eyes to Alexander. “What?”

“Roosevelt. Didn’t get along with Native Americans.” Alexander still hadn’t moved, and his voice was muffled behind his arms. Only a slight tremor in his voice gave away his anxiety.

Even though he had intended for this to be a different conversation, he was very glad that Alexander was talking to him.

“What do you know about him?” John asked tentatively, hoping to get Alexander to keep talking.

“‘I don’t go so far as to think that the only good Indians are the dead Indians, but I believe nine out of every ten are,’ Roosevelt said during a January 1886 speech in New York, ‘And I shouldn’t like to inquire too closely into the case of the tenth.’” Alexander recited the words robotically, like he was reading off of a teleprompter.

John swallowed slowly. “That’s terrible.”

“And yet,” Alexander continued, “there are tons of statues like this where he’s immortalized as being a staunch ally of Native Americans, just because he cared about trees.”

Suddenly, Alexander picked up his head and laughed, startling John so much that his whole body jolted.

“What is it?” John asked, bewildered.

“Is the universe just one huge extended metaphor, waving its arms and screaming in my face, desperate to get my attention?”

“What do you mean?”

Alexander turned to look at John, a rueful smile on his face. John’s mouth fell open when he saw how bloodshot his eyes were.

“Alexander-”

“You’re bleeding.”

“...What?”

Alexander glanced pointedly downwards.

John looked down at his hands and blinked in surprise when he saw blood trickling from his split knuckles. He flexed his fingers and winced.

“It stings like a bitch, but I’m fine.”

John felt like he should’ve been surprised when Alexander didn’t argue.

“Why did you...do that?” Alexander asked after a long silence.

John fidgeted, bringing his feet up to the step below him. “I know, I probably should have tried using my words instead of jumping the guy, but you’re much better at arguing with people than I am, and I thought that-”

“No,” Alexander interrupted. “Why did you fight him?”

How was John supposed to answer that? Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because he was harassing you? And just being an absolute dick?”

Alexander refused to meet his eyes. “But he’s your friend.”

“Not anymore.”

Alexander finally glanced up at him. John felt his fists clench all over again when he saw the utterly lost look in his eyes.

“You don’t mean that, do you,” Alexander said sadly. It wasn’t a question.

“Of course I do.”

Alexander turned away.

“Hey.” John placed his hand on Alexander’s arm. “Of _course_ I mean it. Why the hell would I want to hang around an asshole like that?”

Alexander looked at John like he was being an idiot. “You told me how much you like him.”

“Yeah, before I knew that he was a complete jackass!”

Alexander staggered to his feet and started to pace in front of John on the sidewalk. John felt like he couldn’t do anything but watch helplessly as Alexander began to rant, running his hands manically through his hair.

“Of course, I feel horrible that I made you beat him up, because I know how much you hate hurting people and how much it scares you, and you don’t deserve to have any of that on your mind, and it was my fault for saying that I was trans on my twitter, if I had just kept it to myself none of this would’ve happened, and I know you were just fighting him so I wouldn’t have to, but I wouldn’t have, I swear, I hear stuff like that all the time, and I wasn’t going to fight him because I knew it would make everything harder for you, because you have so few friends as it is, and I know that what he said wasn’t even that bad and it shouldn’t be affecting me like this, but when you _laughed_ when he called me a- a _tranny_ my heart just fell, right down to my feet, and I didn’t know what to do-”

John stumbled off the steps and planted his feet in front of Alexander, hands on his shoulders.

Alexander only stared at him, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, his mouth opening and closing silently.

Whatever John was about to say flew out of his head.

_Fuck it._

“First off,” he said, “I love you.”

Alexander’s eyes darted around John’s face, like he was searching for some deception there.

“I had no idea that word was a slur,” John continued. “And it makes me want to go back there and punch that motherfucker again.”

Despite himself, Alexander chuckled.

John cupped Alexander’s face in one hand, and smiled when he leaned into it. “None of that was your fault, corazóncito. Not one bit of it.”

Alexander took a deep breath, blinking his tears rapidly away.

“I love you too,” he said, so quietly John almost didn’t hear him.

They stayed there for quite a while, with the wind pushing their hair around and Teddy Roosevelt keeping watch over them. John didn’t mind a bit.

Finally, Alexander piped up. “You know, I love staring at the Hero of San Juan Hill as much as the next guy, but your knuckles are bleeding onto my shoulder and I’d really, really like to go home.”

A laugh ripped its way out of John’s chest. “That sounds good. More than good. Excellent, even.”

Alexander smiled sweetly at him, linking their arms together. They guided each other toward the subway, their Starbucks completely forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Corazón, Querido, Corazóncito- all affectionate terms like “darling” and “my heart.”
> 
> “Nadie se quedará contigo, hermanita.” - “Nobody will stay with you, little sister.”
> 
> “Ellos saben que no mereces la pena.” - “They know you are not worth it.”
> 
> “Ils savent que tu ne ferez que gâcher leurs vies.” - “They know that you will only ruin their lives.”
> 
> -
> 
> And yes, that strangely-phrased portion was in fact from historical aham’s letter about the hurricane. I love that thing to pieces.
> 
> -
> 
> “Alaina,” you ask, “why the hell wasn’t the asshole Charles Lee? That would’ve made much more contextual sense.”
> 
> I smile at you from my armchair, casually sipping a large glass of cocoa. “You’ll see.”
> 
> -
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys!! I’ll be updating again soon.
> 
> If you’d like, help me out by commenting which of these unfinished works you’d like to read next:
> 
> -a story about John and Alex finding out about Burr’s secret relationship with Theodosia  
> -a pre-for once there is nothing up my sleeve story about John shopping for dresses with Lafayette  
> -a story about Alexander’s roommate kicking him out and Alexander moving in with John  
> -a story about John's sister Patsy running away from home and turning up at his door  
> -a pre- for once there is nothing up my sleeve story about Alex finding out that John’s dating a girl
> 
> As always, I will love you forever if you leave me kudos or comments of any kind. You don’t need to have an AO3 account to do either.
> 
> Happy (almost) New Year, and happy holidays in general!!


End file.
